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My pain the Somali poem

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I am no poet but reading the above poems inspired me to say something...i hope you will enjoy reading it.




wandering in this universe

we are proud to be refugees

to seek shelter is someone else's house

we look forward to abondening our land


we let the lowest among us to lead the way

we have sharpened the knives for hungry butchers

they took the knives and cut us into pieces

inline and smiling are our enemies

ready to take a piece of what was once Somalia

OH my people we gave the knives to warlords

who only seek to deepen our wounds

whose sole existance is to make us grieve

OH my people we gave the knives to warlords

they went and allied with our enemies

they seek advice from Ethiopia

Are you kidding me Ethiopia

Ethiopia playing a major role is a somalian peace conference

this has to be our worst nightmare

to have our enemy deciding our fate

OH my people we gave the knives to warlords


our future seems so dark

will there be a light for us at the end of the tunnel?

OH ALLAH please have mercy on us

let there be Moses among us to show us the way


it has been a decade

no one has gained but those who are happy to see us fail

But yet it seems we are as ignorant as ever

our elders are the roots of this disease

tribe has become the core of their conversation

let us not follow where the path may lead

let us find a cure for this disease

let us hold hands and sing together

let us take a deep breath and open our eyes


our ancestors have given their lives to free this land

they took up arms and defeated the mighty

they were sultans and men of intellect


we have shed so many tears

let us dry our tears and cry no more

let us show no love to those who made us cry.... (warlords)!!!!

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From the dessert of the dark continent

to the riches of the AmericaS

i have traveled so far from my home


i have seen so many faces

i have spoken so many languages

for what reason good or bad i am yet to see


i have shed so many tears

i have lost so many friends

MAN OH MAN i miss my home


from a king a mong his peers

to an outcast in a strange land

MAN OH MAN i have come so far


i have the face of a happy man

i laugh when there is no humar

i speak when there is nothing to talk about


but beyond what your eyes can see is a different man

a desperate man

a man full of pain


pain that i must bear everyday

pain that i should bear

pain that has dried my vains


for i am a man with no identity

a man with a cursed past and a deemed future

a man without a country


home sweet home

home sweet SOMALIA


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Thou peace is by far hard to acomplish, no land has tasted greater trials then my Nation


Famine, illness, disease starvation.


Tribalism is hard to conquer people get affected from the temptation

We are the same creation but with different formation,

We are suffering from difficulties in communication

Two tribes cant have any relations

This is the foundation of my frustration.


I ask myself too many questions to release the tension.

Trying to put myself in another world another dimension

how did it occur this political convention.

That nobody really likes to mention.


What is really peace to you and me-

If hatred wasn't there how would it be.

Instead of individuals we become a we.

To disagree on things not agreed


If i could wish on one thing

i have a desire

a strong will to have my people being admired

I have a will to inspire,

my people take them to a higher place

To erase this disgrace and replace it with an embrace

In this case chase away the evil face and build a stable base.


So what is peace to you and me

Isnt a we better then me he and she

Open your eyes and see

A year and two has gone now we are facing a decade

Somalia is fading away its nothing left but a shade

I'm afraid this seranade is far overplayed.

Somalia has been betrayed

It has becoming what we feared what we made

Now what is peace to you

and me

Isnt a we better then me he and she???

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Concerned with measuring fame

While the poor is consoled by pain


My land and my lost name

For 12 years my people haven’t gained

The masses move in hordes insane


A few words to the brave

We will get out of this whole this cave


We must fight in ways they can’t understand

Because this white man is but a man


Somalia stirs my heart

It’s my passion my poison my true pain

You have to be a nomad to comprehend

That my land of warriors produces true friends


None are as proud or as blind

None smarter with such twisted mind

Each and everyone of them a sultan

Each a king to his clan


But Somalia you must change

You must see the value of compromise

You must respect and listen to the wise

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